I can remember my mother recounting the country saying that a young man can only kiss a girl when the gorse is in flower. But he's always in luck! There is rarely a time when there isn't a little bit of gorse blooming somewhere. At the moment it is full blown and gorgeous.
At Easter time, when I was about eight or nine, we cooked up some gorse flowers, and then boiled some eggs in the water. The shells turned bright yellow! Then we drew all over them with coloured crayons!We passed this lovely bank of honesty, glowing pure white in the shadow of the overhanging tree. I've made a mental note to go back in the autumn and harvest some seeds from those decorative, papery round seedheads.
In complete contrast to the romantic billow of white honesty, much of the landscape at the moment shows evidence of having been controlled by GPS as the new crops have been sown!
One part of me enjoys the clean lines which create a kind of design, but it is a bit soulless. I very much prefer the rolling countryside which lies beyond.
Walking towards this gorse bush, I received a waft of spicy coconut from the mass of golden yellow flowers. Delicious!